


His Dominion

by Dark_Frejya



Category: British Actor RPF, Enola Holmes (2020), Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: Begging, Come Swallowing, F/M, Face-Fucking, Felatio, Hinted biting, Maledom, Maledom/Femsub, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Smut, Submission, Vaginal Fingering, Virginity, hinted kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Frejya/pseuds/Dark_Frejya
Summary: You would think a gentleman like Sherlock is a tender lover, but the brilliant detective is merely a wolf in a sheep’s clothing, and you happen to his favourite meal.Originally posted on my Tumblr account on Jan 20th
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Reader, Sherlock Holmes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	His Dominion

**Author's Note:**

> There is something about Sherlock that makes me write him like the deadliest man ever.
> 
> * I don't own Enola Holmes or Sherlock Holmes

“Please, I want it… I want it now!”

Pathetic was the begging sputtering from your chapped lips, your eyes a glossy glimmer of wanton shame. Like empyreal art painted on a cathedral’s bone-coloured ceiling, the naked beast had his rigid claws latched around your throat - all thick muscle and dark fur, subduing you to his unmerciful dominion. It didn’t take much from him; Sherlock had his way of shredding the threads of your proprietary and self-worth, bending to him like a slender reed seized by the wind with your knees bloody from kneeling before his black sacrament. 

“Who do you serve?” The burly man snarled at your pleas with burning eyes, his vast thighs forcing your battling legs asunder. 

Who was to believe that an educated, retained man like Detective Holmes had the body of a berserker god? Chills streamed through your tendons at the thought that he was indeed holding back his might; that with a wisp of effort, the brittle bones of your neck were surely to snap had he wanted to. Your nipples pebbled against the confines of the corset, a hint of your breasts peeking out from the hem just in time to meet his bladed grin.

The pointy tips of his fangs shone like sharp silver.

“No,” you whimpered a meek protest yet your legs ground against him with lust, “please, don’t! Sherlock, it hurts!”

Careless of your anguish, Sherlock grazed his chin against your collarbone tauntingly, his hand sliding along the supple skin to your inner thigh. It followed the humidity radiating from your dripping cunt. “Who does this belong to, then?” He rebuked. Not waiting for your consent, he led a thick finger into your succulent apex and began pushing it to induce friction. Diving back and forth he keened at your cries, the tulle of your skirt huddled around his elbow, his forearm ridged with veins.

All the while, his cock hung heavy between his legs, salivating with the desire to eat you from the inside.

“Sherlock! You!” You cried out and arched beneath him, pushing yourself to meet the slow torturous pace inflicted upon your body. He would have you beg, bringing you far enough to the cliff of euphoria but leaving you teetering on edge. 

“Who do you serve?” Sherlock asked once more, thumb circling the little bundle of delights above your slit. His finger was delving knuckle-deep, stretching you, threatening to tear your seal to shreds. 

“You, Master! Please… please… fuck me…”

Sherlock broke into a Cheshire grin. For a moment you believed that your pleading had been triumphant, only to have him crush your hopes as if they were delicate roses in the fist of a beast. 

The tut of his tongue stalled your heart as the coldest winter chill crept along your skin. With a cruel mien, he pulled his finger out and slipped it under his tongue, moaning as he tasted the sweet nectar of your succulent fruit. 

“I will not take your virginity tonight pet, as much as it pains us both…” Stroking a hand over your mound gently, he paused and then slapped your folds, making you hiss at the sting. “Much is left for you to learn.” 

Shifting onto his knees, he raked your hair and pulled you to kneel in front of him. You sobbed; your entire body was aching to be touched, your forlorn core throbbing and dripping with brazen desire. 

“Your pathetic mewling is pleasing but that mouth of yours is surely better when it’s kept shut.” The detective chided with his fingers caging your chin and pressing the hollow of your cheeks. 

Not needing any further instructions, you let him pillage your mouth with his well-endowed cock. 

Back and forth he fucked your hot cavern, sputtering praises, stroking your hair. His beautiful groans were your precious solace, the mere idea of him finding pleasure in your body made you feel important. Even as tears followed and your breath stilled, you endured the painful need in your gut to experience the true ecstasy he forbade. 

When he was close, when his brow rose and his lips parted into loud gasps, you knew he was your captive just as you were his. Glassy-eyed and helpless, he grunted, rasped, and cried out your name until he unloaded his lust deep in your throat. 

“Hold it in,” he ordered and pulled his cock from between your swollen lips. One curious digit reached beneath your eye and dipped into the pool of briny fat tears that gathered beneath it. Collecting the dew onto the pad of his finger, he slipped his tongue to taste it, savouring the taste of your despair.

“You may swallow, beloved,” Sherlock commanded. You did his bidding and then reached to hug his naked torso, pressing your cheek to the soft hair that peppered his stomach.

Looking down at his obedient pet, Sherlock was pleased with your behaviour. It was mesmerising to see how devoted you were to him, and how soon you forgot that you were his prisoner…


End file.
